Sherlock's Adventures at Hogwarts
by vaticancameos221b
Summary: 19 years after Lord Voldemort's defeat, Sherlock and his friends travel to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and have lots of adventures there. Temporarily put on hold while I come up with some new material.
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock's Adventures At Hogwarts  
1. The Day Before  
Sherlock could taste dirt in his mouth as he tumbled off his broom and fell to the ground. He spat and looked up at the sky watching the three boys fly off into the distance on their broomsticks. He groaned and sat up to make sure his broom wasn't damaged.  
"Bloody hell! Are you alright?" Sherlock looked up to see his best friend, John Watson, jumping off his broom and coming to Sherlock's aid.  
"Yeah, I'm fine. The others got me good. Did you see which one knocked me off? I'm gonna get that bastard and punch him in the nose." The other boys in which Sherlock was talking about were his other friends: James, Gregory, and Mycroft (though it would be a bit of a stretch calling Mycroft Sherlock's friend).  
"I think it was James, he's never been one for fair play," replied John looking closely at Sherlock to make sure he wasn't hurt.  
"I'm FINE John, lets go, I really need to win that race, I bet Mycroft a galleon that I would win and I cant afford to lose any more money, not with the first day of school coming up tomorrow." Sherlock jumped back on his lightning bolt and darted away. John mounted his broom and nervously sighed. WHY did Sherlock have to bring up tomorrow? He was already nervous enough about his first day without Sherlock being there to remind him.  
Tomorrow would be the day he and his friends left for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It would be Sherlock, James, and his first year, and Mycroft and Gregory's fifth year. All three of the twelve-year-olds were extremely nervous about the sorting.  
While John was thinking, or more accurately, worrying about tomorrow, Sherlock was gaining on his friends. He crashed into an unsuspecting James, making him tumble off his broom and fall onto Mycroft. Mycroft's broom immediately started to drop from the weight and spun around because of Mycroft trying to throw James off. In the confusion Gregory flew over to help his friends and Sherlock sped past him towards the finish line. He reached it in just a few seconds, cheering his triumph and shouting "You owe me one galleon!" to Mycroft.  
All three of the losers scrambled to the finish line just as a smirking John came in second. The best friends high fived each other and watched James run and grab his broom from the ground, mount it and dart to the finish line in one swift movement. James was definitely going to be on the quidditch team for his house once he got to Hogwarts.  
"Boys, its time to come in!" yelled Sherlock and Mycroft's mother.  
"BYE!" the brothers shouted in unison, darting with their brooms towards their mother.  
"Mycroft go with Sherlock to make sure he has everything he needs and check your own trunk too, young man," she told Mycroft lovingly. He nodded and grabbed Sherlock's wrist pulling him into the house and up to Sherlock's room.  
Mycroft popped open Sherlock's trunk and began checking to make sure Sherlock had everything he needed for a year at Hogwarts while Sherlock stroked Eyepatch, his snowy owl. Mycroft wasn't quite sure why Sherlock had named his owl Eyepatch, it was a big and handsome white owl with streaks of grey running down his front and back, it didn't resemble an eye patch in the slightest. Mycroft's own pure white snowy owl, Winterwings, had been named by his mother because he was unable to come up with a creative and unique name.  
"You've got everything you need." Mycroft got up to leave.  
"Myc?"  
"Yes Sherlock?"  
"Does the sorting take long?" Mycroft smiled slightly.  
"Its over before you know it."  
"Does it hurt?"  
"No."  
"Thanks."  
"Anytime, Sherlock, anytime." With that Mycroft left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

2. The Sorting  
The London train station was full of people the next morning. The Holmes family carefully slipped into platform nine and three quarters and instantly met up with the Watson family. John looked as nervous as Sherlock felt. He squeaked in greeting and stole a glance over his right should to look at his older sister Harriett (Harry for short). Sherlock looked around the train station and his eyes caught on one particular scene.  
James was talking to two other boys. Sherlock could tell that one was his age and the other was a year older, they were similar in features so he deduced that they were brothers. A glance at the boys parents who were talking to a girl that was probably the two boys sister confirmed his suspicions. He strode over to the three boys and spoke interruptingly.  
"Good morning, James and Albus Potter, how do you do?" The boys turned in surprise, Sherlock could see that they weren't talking with James, they were arguing with him.  
"How do you know who we are?" James Potter asked, very surprised.  
"I observe things, unlike most people I would say," Sherlock replied as if that answered everything. James smirked and put an arm around Sherlock's shoulders in a friendly gesture, which Sherlock squirmed out of because he was always uncomfortable around James.  
"Nice to see you, Sherlock. I was just argu- ah, discussing with these here Potters what the best house is, they seem to think its Gryffindor, while I am thinking Slytherin. What do you think?"  
"I prefer not to get dragged into this… argument," Sherlock said, almost saying 'childish feud'.  
"Now now, boys. We wouldn't want to make enemies before the first day of school even starts, would we?" a sassy and distinctly female voice said directly behind Sherlock. He spun around to face a girl with wavy brown hair and piercing blue eyes.  
"Not at all, cousin, not at all," James said before darting off to find his parents and his things. Sherlock didn't recognize the girl but she walked off before he could talk to her or even get a good look at her. He went off to find his own parents and things. A while later he got on the train.  
After what seemed like an eternity to Sherlock the Hogwarts express had finally arrived at the school and they were done with the ceremonial boat ride for the first years with minimal chaos (James almost pushed John out of the boat twice and fell in himself the second time so Sherlock and John had to pull him out). All the first years lined up in order according to last name and they walked into the great hall, ready to be sorted. The hat sang its song and the first first year came up and sat on the stool after his name, Adams, Jonah, the hat was placed on his head and it shouted HUFFLEPUFF! He walked to the Hufflepuff table and joined his fellow housemates.  
The next person to be sorted was the girl James called his cousin. Adler, Irene was sorted into Slytherin. He waited until the witch reading the soon-to-be students names called out Holmes, Sherlock.  
"Good luck," a voice said behind him as he started to walk to the stool. He was terrified being the first of his friends to be sorted. He sat in the stool and the hat was placed on his head. The hat paused for a moment before shouting out RAVENCLAW! He grinned and walked over to the Ravenclaw table where a happy Mycroft patted him on the back, Sherlock noticed he was wearing a prefects badge. He watched as the girl who had told him good luck got sorted, she was Hooper, Molly (Hufflepuff) and a few other memorable people. Malfoy, Scorpius (Slytherin), Moriarty, James (Slytherin), Potter, James (Gryffindor), Riley, Kitty (Slytherin), and Watson, John (Gryffindor).  
The feast progressed and then it was time to go to each respectable houses common room and dormitory. Afterwards Sherlock and Mycroft did a violin and piano duet together and entertained all of Ravenclaw house. Sherlock found that his roommates weren't as stupid and boring as common people were. After all the festivities, Sherlock went up to his room and sat on the windowsill stroking Eyepatch and gazing out the window. Life is good.


	3. Chapter 3

3. The Quidditch Match  
The next week went by without too many strange incidents. Sherlock had figured out how to get into the Gryffindor common room so that John could help him with his astronomy homework and he could help John with his potions homework. The potions master was a scary bloke, the head of Slytherin, like almost all potions masters before him. It was only natural that he didn't favor John because he was in Gryffindor and he only liked Sherlock slightly better because he was a Ravenclaw and more experienced. The only reason Sherlock was more experienced than John was because he had blown things up in Mycroft's room too many times to remember.  
Monday of the second week was the day of Quidditch tryouts. It was only the third year that first years were allowed to tryout and join the teams, so more than half of the Ravenclaw team had already graduated the year before, leaving all the exciting positions open. Sherlock took his broom out into the field when it was time for Ravenclaw tryouts.  
The Gryffindors tried out before the Ravenclaws did so Sherlock got to see John try out. He and all of his friends were good Quidditch players. Mycroft was a Ravenclaw beater and Gregory was the Hufflepuff keeper as well as the team captain. Sherlock was nervous but not as nervous as he was before the sorting.  
He flew well and seemed impress the team captain. Afterwards, Sherlock changed into his regular school robes and went down to the banquet hall. After the battle of Hogwarts and the defeat of Lord Voldemort, houses were encouraged to mix and make friends, so except for the sorting night, there were no school tables. Sherlock strode over and sat next to John.  
"How do you think you did?" Sherlock asked.  
"I dunno, I just cant wait until the results come out." The results would be on each house announcement board after they came back from supper. The day passed slower than a snail, especially supper.  
After supper was over, Sherlock and John ran to their common rooms to read the announcement boards to read the tryout results. Sherlock didn't see his name anywhere on the list until he got to the bottom and froze. It was better than he had ever hoped. He, Sherlock Holmes, was officially the Ravenclaw seeker. He looked over his shoulder to see the team captain, Markus Winchester, standing behind him and grinning.  
"We have a game in two weeks against Slytherin and I have utmost confidence in you that we wont lose." Two weeks! Would that be enough time to practice? Sherlock practically danced out of the common room, on his way to the Gryffindor tower. He was met by a grinning James and John at the entrance. One look and Sherlock could tell which positions they got.  
"You're the seeker," he said, pointing at James. "And you're a beater," he said to John. "You both got onto your house teams, brilliant job!"  
"What position did you get?" John asked.  
"I," he replied proudly, "am the Ravenclaw seeker." James walked up to him until they were practically nose to nose, or in their case nose to chest since Sherlock was more than a head taller than James.  
"Fight to the finish then?" James sneered.  
"You know it," Sherlock replied. James walked back in the direction of the Slytherin common room. Sherlock watched him go and then turned to congratulate John. "Brilliant, John, just brilliant."  
The next two weeks passed in a blur of classes, homework, and quidditch practice. The morning of the game was bright and sunny, John and Sherlock walked to the quidditch field together. Sherlock was more than a little bit nervous. He knew from experience that James was one of the best quidditch players he knew.  
"Remember what I told you," John started, "pay close attention to the area around you and if you see the snitch don't make it obvious to James. Oh, and watch out for the bludgers. Nasty little things hurt like a bitch if you get hit."  
Sherlock nodded and smiled. "I see someone's been studying quidditch, has Mycroft helped you train like I asked him to?" John nodded and held open the curtain to the Ravenclaw tent and Sherlock stepped in.  
When it was time for the game to start, the captains shook hands and they were off. Sherlock rose into the air and looked around for a flash of gold. Something whistled behind him and he turned to look just as a Slytherin chaser was hit in the back with a bludger. He tumbled off his broom and fell sixty feet to the ground. The bludger now had its attention directed at Sherlock, now that he realized it, both bludgers were after him. He flew as fast as he could away from them but they were slowly gaining on him. Luckily, Markus and Mycroft, the two beaters, hit the bludgers toward a Slytherin only a few seconds before one was going to smash into Sherlock's head.  
"Careful, little brother," said Mycroft before he flew away again. Sherlock watched him go, irritated. Before he was about to look away, he saw a flash of gold. He stole a glance at James, who was watching a Ravenclaw get chased by a bludger, and flew after it. Unfortunately, it disappeared as soon as he got a good look at it.  
He sighed and turned to look at James, whose attention was focused on something near the stands. Sherlock looked and saw the little flash of gold, he shot after it along with James. James saw him and hit him hard enough that he almost hit the stands and nearly fell off his broom. Fortunately, Sherlock had very good balance and righted himself before flying after James again. He decided to retaliate and body slammed James full force. James crashed straight through the stands.  
"Payback," Sherlock muttered under his breath. He shot after the snitch again only to lose it in the planks holding up the stands. "Shit." He rose up to the field again, then he realized to snitch was mere inches away from his nose. He reached out as fast as he could and grabbed it. "YES!" His glory was short lived because at that moment a bludger hit Sherlock in the back of the head and everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

4. And Now a Word From Mycroft  
Mycroft loved his little brother. He really did, even though it was more than hard sometimes. Like when Sherlock blew up his school trunk two years ago, or when he set off playing violin in his room at three thirty in the morning in his room (that happened to be directly under Mycroft's). He definitely didn't want him to die. The healer, Madam Hudson, said he was in critical condition, "Split his head open, and he lost quite a lot of blood on the field before we got to him." It was true, Sherlock had fallen under the stands and it took five minutes for someone to realize that something was wrong.  
Now, twenty-four hours later, Sherlock was still asleep in the hospital wing and Mycroft was sitting in a chair at Sherlock's bedside. He absolutely refused to leave his brother. His logic was: if his brother was to die, he wanted to be at his side when it happened. At first he tried to wake Sherlock up by talking to him, then, when Madam Hudson wasn't looking, even shaking him. Nothing helped, and Mycroft was getting madder and madder with grief over his brother. At last Mycroft couldn't stand it anymore and tried a last time.  
"Sherlock Thomas Holmes, you selfish bastard, if you don't wake up then I will personally tell James that you wet the bed until you were six." Mycroft waited thirty minutes, then an hour, then two. Sherlock never woke up. Mycroft drank a sleeping potion and then fell into a heavy drugged and disturbed sleep. He woke up a few hours later to the single most disturbing and horrific thing that had happened in his life so far.  
He woke up to find a dead Sherlock, not a barely breathing one, a dead one. Madam Hudson had woken Mycroft up. She had tears streaming down her face and a letter in her hand.  
"I'll have to write to your parents and inform them, I trust that you will tell his friends. I'll leave you alone to-you know…" She rushed out of the room, crying. Mycroft's eyes never left his brother's still figure. He began to speak, pouring his heart out into the words.  
"Well you really did it this time, you know you haven't just destroyed Mummy and Father's lives, you've destroyed mine as well. If you had woken up when I asked you to I would have said I hated you for giving us all a scare. Now I know that you're not coming back and I still hate you for it, but mostly, I blame myself. I am one of the Ravenclaw beaters after all, if I had been watching you and not the quaffle you probably would be celebrating your victory in the common room right this very minute. But there's something I need to tell you, you arrogant, selfish sod. I love you as a brother and I care about you more than anyone else and anything else. You'd better have heard all that because I wont ever be repeating that again to anyone for the rest of my god damned life." At the very last word Mycroft burst into tears. "I-I'm sorry, please forgive me. I wouldn't if I were you and I never will even if I'm not you." He ran from the room with a plan.  
He said the correct password and burst into the Gryffindor common room. All the Gryffindors turned to stare at him. He looked frantically around the room. Scanning every face.  
"JOHN? I'm looking for John Watson!" John stood up from the middle of a large, tightly packed group,  
"What is it Mycroft? What's wrong?"  
"I-Its Sh-Sherlock… he's dead…" It took all Mycroft had not to burst into sobs right there and then. John froze, processing what Mycroft said, a look of horror upon his face. Without warning John pushed Mycroft out of the common room entrance and ran down the corridor towards the hospital wing, bursting into tears along the way. Mycroft found him sitting outside the entrance of the hospital wing, in a broken heaving sobbing mess. Mycroft took him under his arm as if he were his own brother. Together, they walked into the hospital wing.  
Both of them looked at Sherlock's body, it was too much to bear, Mycroft ran out of the room. John stayed. Crying quietly.


	5. Chapter 5

5. The Heart Of John H. Watson  
"One more miracle, Sherlock, please, for me. Don't. Be. Dead." It was a few minutes after Mycroft had run out on him. John had just finished giving the most meaningful speech that he had ever and probably would ever give. It wasn't long, but it was his heart. He looked down at the still figure that was once full and bursting with life. It was once Sherlock. He set a hand on Sherlock's bare chest and prepared to say a very painful goodbye. He had set his hand right over Sherlock's unbeating heart.  
He felt Sherlock's heart sputter and come to life. His eyes flew open and he immediately sat up, wincing because of the stitches in his head. John was so shocked he couldn't even say anything. Sherlock turned to look at John and spoke.  
"Did we win?" he asked.  
"Huh?"  
"The quidditch match, did we win?"  
"Yeah…"  
"BRILLIANT! FANTASTIC! YES!" Sherlock sprang out of bed despite his injuries, though he would regret it later when pain flooded his skull. His gaze fell upon John's face and he froze, reading what happened and what John went through. "John, I am so sorry. Please forgive me."  
"Of course I forgive you. It wasn't even your fault that you got hit by that bludger, I'm just glad you don't have any brain damage. Now THAT would be one hell of a disaster." John grinned at him. "You know I kind of want to be a healer when I grow up, but I also kind of want to be an auror so I'm not sure what I should be. Why am I talking about this? I should be getting Mycroft. You know he really is upset, he couldn't even be in here with me before you woke up." Sherlock stared at him, eyes wide.  
"He was upset? Because I was dead?" But John had already hurried out of the room to find Mycroft, leaving Sherlock to his thoughts. Mycroft walked in a few minutes later and embraced his brother. He had already went back to his stuffy, icy persona, not the delicate, caring person he was no more than ten minutes ago. "Hey there, Mikey, how are you?" Mycroft smirked.  
"Better now that you're alive, Sherly."  
"Don't call me Sherly."  
"Then don't call me Mikey."  
"I wont call you Mikey if you don't call me Sherly."  
"Fine, you can call me Mikey."  
"You still cant call me Sherly." John grinned as he heard the two brothers squabble, and even more when Madam Hudson came in and saw Sherlock standing in the middle of the hospital wing. She just stood there, not believing what her eyes saw. John turned to Sherlock.  
"What did you do, what trick did you pull?"  
"I-I just remember getting hit by that bludger and waking up five minutes ago. I didn't pull any sort of trick, I promise." John looked down at his hands, wondering what power in them had caused Sherlock to come back to life. At that moment the Holmes parents emerged from the hospital wing entrance. John looked at them, Sherlock's mother looked like she had been crying for a while and his father looked noticeably distressed. They froze next to Madam Hudson when they saw Sherlock.  
Sherlock saw them, and between them and Mycroft it was just too much. He doubled over laughing. The three elder Holmes looked at him like he was crazy. John joined him in the laughter.  
"What in the world happened?" Madam Hudson said. "Sherlock, the last time I saw you you were dead, how are you alive?" Sherlock glanced over at John.  
"It was by Dr. Watson's hand that I'm still alive and I will be forever grateful for that." John's eyebrows rose, Dr. Watson… Doctor? Madam Hudson looked from Sherlock to John.  
"Nothing quite extraordinary as this has happened in thousands of years."  
"Wait, this has happened before?" Sherlock asked, not taking his eyes off John.  
"If you mean by his hand literally then, yes, it has. It is a more powerful magic that only some wizards can control." John looked at his hands again. Him, a powerful and unique wizard, it couldn't be, he was just John. Madam Hudson continued, "It is very complicated, if it worked on Sherlock by John's hand, then it will work on John by Sherlock's hand. I hope that makes sense."  
"It does, thank you for explaining it, Madam Hudson," Sherlock said. John was beyond lost, so did that mean that Sherlock could bring John back to life the same way John brought Sherlock back to life? He was extremely confused. Little did he know that it would make sense a day very soon when Sherlock returned the favor.


	6. Chapter 6

6. Patronuses  
Over the next few weeks all of Hogwarts was talking about Sherlock Holmes's miraculous return from the dead, and the new defense against the dark arts curriculum. First years this year were going to learn how to produce patronuses.  
"It's fifth year material at least," said one of the teachers. But it was a new school requirement. The defense against the dark arts teacher, Professor Bertham, and the Hogwarts headmaster, Professor Gargian, had decided to teach every student in Hogwarts how to produce a patronus.  
"Dark times are coming, I can feel it. There might be something equally as terrible as Lord Voldemort out there and I want to make sure the students can defend themselves," said Gargian. He had been watching two students as well. "I feel as though they have a special bond, not just anyone could have used old magic that was as powerful as it was. Mr. Holmes and Mr. Watson don't seem terribly alike, but they are best friends… how curious."  
The first day of patronus lessons, the students were asked to think of the happiest memories that they had. Sherlock concentrated on three in particular. Him catching the snitch and winning the game before the bludger hit him, playing quidditch with his friends, and getting into trouble with John.  
"Expecto patronum!" A wisp of silvery smoke erupted from the end of his wand and started taking shape, but it dissolved before Sherlock could even tell the animal's size. All of the students tried with similar results, but none began to take shape like his had, Sherlock noticed. Over the next month the students kept practicing until there was a big result.  
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Sherlock yelled. A silvery shape burst from his wand, already in the shape of an animal. The lynx looked around the room then at Sherlock. When it figured out there was nothing to be done, it jumped into the air and then disappeared in a burst of light. Everyone in the room was surprised. A few days later John produced his patronus.  
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" A large, silvery hedgehog burst from his wand and scurried around in mid air before disappearing. "A hedgehog… what the…?" John said afterwards. "Who knew?"  
"Its not so bad, John. No one knew that mine was a lynx. Most of my family has been some kind of bird, I mean, nobody was surprised when Mycroft's turned out to be a raven." Sherlock sighed. He couldn't help but wonder why first years were required to learn how to cast a patronus. Mycroft was going to learn how to this year anyway because he was a fifth year, but what about all the younger students?  
His question got answered the next evening when Sherlock snuck out of the Ravenclaw common room to go visit John. He was quick and extremely clever so it wouldn't have made much difference if he had used an invisibility cloak. He was about to take a turn in the corridor when he heard two people talking just around the corner. He jumped behind one of the suits of armor just as Professor Gargian and Professor Quells, the transfiguration teacher and the head of Ravenclaw house turned the corner, they were talking in grave voices. He leaned in closer to hear.  
"Who could have done it, all students are accounted for and it was a Slytherin, they're usually the culprits, not the victims. We'll need to check all the students again and make sure they're in their common rooms. A petrified student is no laughing matter. I must admit, I was surprised to find out who the victim was, Miss Adler seems like the type of person to do that to someone else, she wouldn't fall victim to something as horrible as that without putting up a fight," said Professor Quells. She looked extremely concerned.  
Professor Gargian took a piece of parchment out of his robe pockets and opened it up. Sherlock was close enough to see what was on the parchment even though they were facing him, it was a map of the school. Little footprints kept appearing in the halls with names under them. He realized that it kept track of all the people out of the common rooms and showed where they were, only then did it hit him. He found the corridor in which they were standing, and saw Professor Gargian and Professor Quells names in the map under their little footprints. He look down more and his heart froze. He saw his name under a pair of footprints behind a suit of armor on the map, he knew that Professor Gargian could see him. Gargian looked up at Sherlock and their eyes briefly met before he turned to face Professor Quells.  
"Everyone seems to be in the common rooms, I just hope no one comes out right now." They walked away in the opposite that they came. Sherlock, getting the message, sprinted back to the common room to talk to Mycroft, Sherlock thought he would understand what he heard better than Sherlock did.  
"Mycroft can I talk to you in private?" Mycroft nodded and got up and they went up to the near deserted dormitories. He opened his mouth to speak but Sherlock was faster. "A student's been petrified, the Adler girl from Slytherin, I heard the headmaster and Professor Quells talking about her in the corridor." Mycroft froze.  
"Do either of them know you heard what they said?" he inquired.  
"I think Professor Gargian saw me, but he didn't say anything, why?"  
"I'll be back later, sleep with your wand on your bedside tonight."  
"I always do, why do I need to now? And where are you going?  
"You know perfectly well why." Mycroft rushed out of the room. Sherlock pulled his wand from his belt and aimed it at the wall.  
"Expecto patronum." The lynx burst from his wand and looked around the room. Sherlock looked at his wand and sighed in relief, as if a patronus could protect him from what was to come.  
A few hours later all the students were herded into the great hall, another student had been found petrified in the corridor near the Hufflepuff common room. The victim was a Hufflepuff and a seventh year, Jonathan Lestrade, Gregory's older brother. All the teachers had agreed that it was too dangerous and had decided to watch over all the students. Students were going around and spreading the news that this had happened once before, when the famous Harry Potter had once gone to the school.  
Sherlock, watching very carefully, snuck out of the room to look around, he figured that if John could bring him back to life, he could unpetrify him. He saw a light out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at it. He saw someone's patronus walk toward him. It was a sly-looking fox, it seemed to glare at him before disappearing. He ran towards where the patronus just was, hoping to find the person who summoned it, no such luck. Exasperated, he turned around to the sound of footsteps in the very dark corridor.  
"STUPEFY!" Mycroft's voice boomed through the corridor. The spell hit Sherlock right in the belly and he doubled over. Mycroft got quite a surprise when he went to see who he had stunned. "Sherlock!? How…?" Sherlock did his best to glare at him, which was extremely difficult seeing that he couldn't move. Mycroft performed the counter jinx and Sherlock managed to stand up, even though he felt like he was going to pass out. "Get back to the great hall now. Or else I'll have you suspended," Mycroft said through his teeth.  
Sherlock scurried off down the hall, not saying anything about the fox. He had to figure out who's patronus was, and quick. Sherlock had a feeling that if he found out who had produced that patronus, he would find out who was behind those attacks. He wasn't going to do it alone, he'd have John Watson by his side the entire time.


End file.
